Salt Storm: The Salted Series: Episodes #31-35 by Galvin, Aaron (read 50 shades of grey .TXT) 📕

the rest, ever evading Kellen’s searching for her among the rest. Yet just as soon he lost her in the crowd, he found her ahead of him again.

Who is she? He wondered, thinking to ask Phobetor amidst his constant introductions.

Kellen’s question was not to come, however, the gathered Sancul falling back as they neared the end of their lines. It was then Kellen understood whilst he had been acknowledging the other Sancul and searching for the crimson-haired she-squid among the crowd, Phobetor had led them down one of the tunnel entrances.

The end of it had opened into what resembled an overturned, bowl-like arena. At its center, a new host of Sancul had encircled a black, stone table in awaiting his arrival and the feast to follow.

Kellen stiffened at the sight of a Blue Whale carcass. Though the Ancient beast were only a calf, its corpse seemed to stretch to the furthest reaches of the confined cavern space. Kellen wondered how the Sancul had managed to bring down the gargantuan beast, let alone carry it inside the cavern without carving the body into sectioned pieces first.

The Sancul around the whale were already laboring at the feast to come too. Devoid of expression or voice, those attending to the main course used the claws of their tentacles to slice and dice at the whale flesh, each of them serving up bits of fatty, white meat.

Kellen’s stomach turned at the sight, even as his Sancul form craved the sustenance and taste.

Phobetor grinned as he swept his left hand in acknowledgement of the awaiting display before them. Behold, Uncle! All is prepared . . . a feast in honor of your glorious return.

Kellen nodded. Thank you . . . he whispered, even as he glanced at those swimming past him to descend upon the meal. But shouldn’t we check on Hypnos? See how he’s doing, I mean?

Rest easy, Uncle, said Phobetor, guiding him further in. My mother and Kanaloa will care for my father. Besides, this feast is for you.

Kellen sickened at the sight of the Sancul beneath him hurrying toward the feast, each of them being offered a bit of the blubbery, raw whale meat. Though their bodies were withered and each seemed to Kellen as eager as the next to consume their portions, not a single one of the Sancul fed themselves. Instead, Kellen watched with curious intrigue as the Sancul chose partners from among the masses, then fed their counterparts instead.

Why are they doing that? Kellen wondered. Again, he kept his questions to himself, not daring to ask Phobetor for fear of making his true self known. Instead, he followed the one who claimed him as uncle.

Phobetor led Kellen to the carcass. A true feast, isn’t it, Uncle? The Blues have always been my meal of choice, though it saddens me to say our capture of their kind has been far fewer of late.

Kellen recoiled as Phobetor plunged one of his tentacles into the whale flesh. His appendage and its attached claws twisted and circled like an auger, then. For a moment, Kellen wondered if Phobetor meant to delve a hole clean through to the opposite side of the Ancient beast. Instead, his claws and tentacle coiled and formed a self-made spoon to catch the hunk of newly carved flesh when it plopped away from the source. Kellen winced at the hole left behind, even as memories of his younger days ashore thought of the fatty, white flesh left behind like a drum of ice cream that Phobetor had scooped a bit from.

The Salt dragon raised his offering toward Kellen. For you, Uncle. In keeping the customs of old, it would honor me to feed this first bite to you.

Kellen was trying to think of an excuse to decline when another Sancul shouted the Salt dragon’s name from afar. Kellen looked for the source, but could not find the one who had called for his companion.

Relinquishing his offer, Phobetor backed away from the feast. Forgive me, Uncle, he said. I am a weak replacement for my mother’s hospitality, but it would seem I must serve the others in her stead. Let you wait for me though before you eat. He gave over the whale meat portion to Kellen. Here. I shall be back in due time.

Phobetor left him before Kellen could object.

Instinct urged him to follow and abandon the feast. Kellen ignored his inner grumblings when he again spotted the crimson-haired she-squid from before. She swam among another grouping, yet seemed unconcerned with their conversation. When her violet gaze locked with Kellen, she offered him a smile to make any other that Kellen had ever witnessed pale in comparison.

Who are you? He wondered of her as the she-squid gave her farewells to those she swam with. Kellen found himself unable to break his stare of her, his mind and body both mesmerized as she seemed to glide through the water in a path directly toward him.

The she-squid stopped inches away from Kellen. Hail, Kellen Shore-Walker, she said, smiling at him all the while. Welcome to the Cavern of Somnus. She laughed. Welcome home, rather.

You know me? Kellen asked.

Of course, said she. Though by your face and tone, I gather you do not remember me.

Kellen shook his head. I-I don’t remember much . . . from my life before, I mean.

Before? She asked, cocking an eyebrow. When you were the doom-bringer Moros?

Kellen hesitated. Yes, he said finally.

The she-squid’s grin quickened. You need not lie to me, she said. I know that you never lived that life, Kellen Winstel. You have only been pretending all this time for want of your own survival.

Kellen’s gaze narrowed upon her. Believe whatever you want, then. Who are you anyway?

Phantasos is my name, said she, chuckling. And I should almost be offended that you had forgotten me, if I did not know the truth about you. She leaned in like she meant to whisper a secret in his ear. For you may have fooled the others